If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

for mild sexual innuendo

To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find

 

It's Tuesday, which means it's time again for my favorite weekly bookish meme, Top Ten Tuesday.  Participating is fun and easy.  If you've never done it before, hop on over to The Broke and the Bookish, read over the rules, make your own list, and voilá, you're in!

Last week, we talked about the things that entice us to pick up books.  This week, we're chatting about the opposite.  Which things make you avoid a book like the plague?  What are your reading turn-offs?  

Here are my Top Ten Things That Will Instantly Make Me Not Want to Read a Book: 

1.  Books that are excessively long.  I read a fair amount of chunksters, mind you, but I definitely think twice before picking them up.  Also, if a book is endless for no apparent reason, I will most likely not continue reading.

2.  Erotica.  No.  Just ... no.

3.  Half-naked people on the cover.  These books get an automatic bypass from me.  Scantily-clad folks on the cover = a sure sign a book is too "spicy" for my tastes.

4.  Naughty words in the title.  Do you have little kids?  Then you know why you don't want to read books with swear words on the cover.  "Mommy, that book has bad words!  Why are you reading a book with bad words?  What does **&&^^!! mean?"  Yeah.

5.  Self-published books.  I know, I know, but I've read too many terribly-written, poorly-edited self-published novels to want to read more.  In general, I don't read books that haven't been looked over by a traditional publisher.  Not that I haven't read terribly-written, poorly-edited traditionally-published books, but still ... 

6.  Books with poorly written/edited queries.  This one goes hand-in-hand with #5.  I get dozens of queries every day from authors/publishers/publicists asking me to review the book(s) they have on offer.  A clever, well-written/edited query goes a long way toward making me want to read a book.  The opposite is also true.  If a query contains sloppy prose, typos/grammatical errors, and flat writing, it's a pretty good indication that the book in question is going to be the same way.  No thanks.

7.  Poetry.  Unless a poem rhymes and is written by Dr. Seuss, I probably won't understand it.  Poetry makes me feel dumb, so I avoid it.

8.  Short Stories.  In spite of what I said in #1, I'm definitely the kind of reader who likes to sink into a rich, detailed novel where I can really get to know the characters and the world in which they live.  Short stories don't allow this kind of depth, so I rarely read them.

9.  Certain authors.  Just like I have auto-read authors, I have auto not-read authors.  If I've read enough of an author's books to know they're just not my cup of tea, I don't pick up their work.

10.  Deep, dense tomes.  My husband is a big fan of deep doctrinal books on religion, philosophy, science, etc.  Not me.  If I have to read a sentence (let alone a paragraph) five times in order to understand it, then it's not for me.  I much prefer clarity to complexity.  No one has ever accused me of being a deep thinker :)

So, what about you?  What will automatically make you reject a book?  Leave me a comment and I'll gladly return the favor.

Happy Top Ten Tuesday!

 

As an aspiring songwriter, Lily Abbott can't stop writing down potential lyrics in the notebook she carries with her everywhere.  When she zones out one too many times in class, her chemistry teacher confiscates the book, leaving Lily hopelessly bored.  Jotting down her favorite lyrics from the indie band she loves on her desk helps pass the time.  Next class period, Lily is shocked to find that someone has continued penning the song on her desk.  Soon, she and her anonymous correspondent are exchanging band recommendations, favorite songs, and increasingly flirty banter.  It's not long before they're sharing deeper, more meaningful thoughts.  Before Lily knows it, she finds herself falling—hard—for the mystery boy who makes her smile, laugh, and think.

 

for very mild innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-copy of P.S. I Like You from the Whitney Awards Committee as part of my involvement with the Whitney Academy's judging panel.

 

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Nestled on four hundred acres of lush forest land in upstate New York, the Bosco estate exudes peace and stillness.  Over one hundred years ago, its mistress began inviting artists to her sprawling home, envisioning it as a retreat for creative souls.  Aurora Latham's dream lives on.  Although the Bosco estate has been neglected over the years, its gardens overgrown, its statuary crumbling, artists still clamber for an invitation to the exclusive colony.

Ellis Brooks is a short story writer working on her first novel, a fictionalized account of the tragic events that occurred in the Latham household in the summer of 1893.  After three of the Lathams' children died in a diphtheria epidemic, wealthy Milo Latham hired a famous medium to help his distraught wife try to contact the dead kids.  When a séance at the estate went horribly wrong, the medium and her accomplice disappeared—along with the Lathams' only remaining child.

The quiet and solitude of Bosco should be helping Ellis concentrate, but the more time she spends there, the more unsettled she becomes.  And she's not the only one.  The other artists-in-residence report seeing and hearing strange things.  As the truth of what happened in 1893 slowly comes to light, it becomes clear that whatever dark malevolence haunted the Bosco estate in the past hasn't entirely left.  Will any of the property's current residents escape unscathed?  No.  No, they will not ...

I've read several of Carol Goodman's novels and I think The Ghost Orchid might be my favorite of them all.  With a spooky atmosphere, some supernatural thrills, and a host of complex characters, it's a compelling read.  While I saw a number of the plot twists coming, I still found the novel intriguing overall.  Sad, yes, but gripping for sure.  

(Readalikes:  Other novels by Carol Goodman and those by Kate Morton)

Grade:

 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

for language (a couple F-bombs, plus milder expletives), violence, sexual content, and depictions of illegal drug use

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

 

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Detective Constable Maeve Kerrigan is used to being ridiculed by her mostly male colleagues.  They mock her gender, her looks, her Irish heritage, her "womanly" empathy, her work habits—everything.  Although the 28-year-old lets it roll off her back, she's still eager to prove she's a valuable member of the London murder squad, that she's there on her own merit and not because she's sleeping with the boss (a rampant, untrue rumor).  She longs to be part of the hunt for a vicious serial killer called The Burning Man.  Solving the case would earn her much-needed bragging rights.  Not to mention bring a murderer to justice.

When a new victim is found, Maeve and her colleagues are puzzled.  The murder seems to be the work of The Burning Man, but the M.O. doesn't quite fit.  Are they looking for the same killer or a copycat?  Assigned to look into the private life of the dead woman, Maeve makes some startling revelations that lead to more mystifying questions.  Who was Rebecca Haworth?  What led to her brutal death?  With few solid clues, it's difficult to find answers.  The more Maeve learns about Rebecca, though, the more determined she is to find the woman's killer.  Even if it means putting her own life on the line.  Which it inevitably will.

The Burning, the first book in the Maeve Kerrigan series by Irish crime writer Jane Casey, is a tense, fast-paced thriller.  While the mystery at its center is certainly compelling, it's the characters that really come first here.  Maeve is tough, but caring and devoted.  Eternally likable, she's also flawed, which makes her feel very real.  Louise North, who is Rebecca's best friend and a dual narrator with Maeve, is likewise intriguing.  While I would consider The Burning a character-driven novel, the plot definitely moves along at a clip.  The story isn't quite as twisty as I wanted it to be, but it definitely kept me riveted.  A few chapters in, I found myself reserving the next two books in the series.  That's how much I liked The Burning, especially its understated but unforgettable heroine.  I've learned since that Casey just knows how to pull me in—once I start one of her books, I (almost literally) can't stop reading.  Fair warning.

(Readalikes:  Books by Sharon Bolton and Tana French; also other novels in the Maeve Kerrigan series, including The Reckoning; The Last Girl; The Stranger You Know; The Kill; After the Fire; and Let the Dead Speak)

Grade:

 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

for strong language, violence, blood/gore, sexual content, depictions of illegal drug use, and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

 

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Cammie O'Reilly knows what it's like to have a caretaker, but not a mother.  Hers died 12 years ago when Cammie was just a baby.  For as long as she can remember, it's been her and her father, who works as a warden at the local prison.  Since the O'Reillys live in an apartment above the entrance to the facility, she's always had one of the female inmates—a prison trustee—as a housekeeper and Cammie-keeper.  Which is all well and good, but this is a pivotal time for Cammie; she wants a mother of her own to help her through it.

There are plenty of women in the Hancock County Prison from whom to choose.  Maybe they're not the most ideal candidates in the world, but Cammie's not all that picky.  Boo Boo, a flamboyant shoplifter, would be a fun mother.  Eloda, the current Cammie-minder isn't exactly the warm and fuzzy type, but she would do.  Cammie just has to do a little scheming to make all her mother-shaped dreams come true.

Of course, procuring a mother isn't that easy.  Neither is growing up, as Cammie is finding out the hard way.  Between her determined mom-scheming, her friends acting strangely, the discovery of an unlikely new pal, and the arrival of an intriguing inmate, her emotions are running high.  It will be a summer full of startling revelations—truths that will change everything for one "Cannonball" Cammie O'Reilly.

I've never read anything by Jerry Spinelli, so when a copy of his newest—The Warden's Daughter—arrived at my kids' school library, I jumped at the chance to read it.  The jail setting caught my attention, as did Cammie's endearing plight.  While I didn't end up loving the novel, I did find it a thoughtful and poignant book that tells a sad but intriguing story. Overall, I did like the tale, which reminded me a lot of the old Rolling Stones adage "You can't always get what you ... you get what you need."

(Readalikes: Reminds me of the Al Capone series [Al Capone Does My Shirts; Al Capone Shines My Shoes; and Al Capone Does My Homework] by Gennifer Choldenko)

Grade:

 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs)

To the FTC, with love:  I borrowed a copy of The Warden's Daughter from my kids' elementary school library.

 

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Sarah Whitaker is used to standing on her own two feet.  In breeches and work boots no less.  Running a sheep farm in the Australian Outback, in a colony overrun with poisonous spiders, venomous snakes, and exiled convicts, is not for the faint of heart. Sarah may be a lady, but she's also as tough as the wilderness surrounding her.  She has to be.  With no family to protect her, no guardian to instruct her, and no neighbors to come to her rescue, she's on her own.  And doing just fine, thank you very much.

After a money-earning stunt goes horribly wrong, Daniel Burton (who happens to be the brother of Meg, who stars in Miss Burton Unmasks a Prince) is scheduled to hang.  Overwhelmed with guilt and shame, he knows he deserves his fate.  When an influential relative intervenes, however, Daniel can't help but jump at the chance to start over.  Although he's required to serve a 14-year sentence in an Australian penal colony, he will not be treated as the other convicts.  Unlike them, he'll be allowed to own land, to work his own farm, and to make his own profits.  Determined to prove himself a solid, trustworthy man, he sets himself to the task.

 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

for scenes of peril

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of Miss Whitaker Opens Her Heart from the generous folks at Covenant.  Thank you!

--

Interested in following along on the Miss Whitaker Opens Her Heart blog tour?  Just click on the links below:

April 10th: http://booksaresanity.blogspot.com/, http://rockinbookreviews.com/, http://ldswritermom.blogspot.com/, http://www.iamareader.com/

Want to win your own copy of Miss Whitaker Opens Her Heart plus a $25 Amazon gift card?  Fill out the Rafflecopter below:

 

 (Image from Barnes & Noble)

Note: While this review will not contain spoilers for How the Light Gets In, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from earlier Armand Gamache mysteries.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.

"Three Pines, he knew, was not immune to dreadful loss.  To sorrow and pain.  What Three Pines had wasn't immunity but a rare ability to heal" (117).

Things are not going well for Armand Gamache, Chief Inspector of the Sûreté du Québec.  Jean-Guy Beauvoir, Gamache's faithful protegé, has left his mentor's side in a fit of anger, choosing a life of addiction and alliance to a corrupt leader over service at the side of the man he's always thought of as a second father.  Most of the Inspector's loyal detecting team is also gone, leaving him with untested, disrespectful rookies.  With the Sûreté's higher ups calling for Gamache's dismissal, the decorated policeman's sterling reputation may be tarnished beyond repair.  Exposing corruption within the Sûreté is the only way to save his job, but does he have the guts to take on his most powerful enemies?  Is it worth losing everything—and everyone—that matters to him?

In the midst of this personal turmoil, Gamache receives a call from Myrna Landers, owner of the used bookstore in Three Pines.  She's worried about a friend who failed to return to the tiny village as expected.  Myrna's reluctance to expose the woman's identity puzzles Gamache until he learns that 77-year-old Constance Pineault was once a very famous woman, a household name not just in Canada, but all over the world.  Who killed the reluctant celebrity?  And why?  It's up to Gamache to find out.  

Juggling the case in Three Pines as well as a major internal crisis decades in the making, Gamache may be in over his head.  Especially without his loyal subjects by his side.  Will the Chief Inspector emerge triumphant?  Or will his brilliant career come to a tragic, shameful end?

It's no secret how much I love Louise Penny's immersive mystery series set mostly in the unforgettable hamlet of Three Pines.  I adore it for many reasons, but mostly because of the kind, intelligent man at its center.  Armand Gamache is a character like no other, one who inspires admiration from both his fictional colleagues and leagues of real people who enjoy reading about his exploits.  It's tough for a raging fangirl like me to see the great man suffer, so How the Light Gets In—the ninth installment in the series—was a bit of a painful read for me.  And, yet, I think it's my favorite Gamache novel so far.  It's tense, exciting, fascinating, funny, and tender.  I loved it, from its first sentence to its last (especially the last).  I can't wait to see what's in store for this beloved cast in the next book, The Long Way Home.  That title sounds kind of ominous, actually ... should I be worried?

(Readalikes: Other books in the Armand Gamache series, including Still Life; A Fatal Grace; The Cruelest Month; A Rule Against Murder; The Brutal Telling; Bury Your Dead; The Hangman [novella]; A Trick of the Light; The Beautiful Mystery; The Long Way Home; The Nature of the Beast; A Great Reckoning; and Glass Houses)

Grade:

 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

  

for language, violence, and blood/gore

To the FTC, with love:  I bought a copy of How The Light Gets In from Changing Hands Bookstore with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha.

 

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

(Note: While this review will not contain spoilers for The Dead of the Night, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from its predecessor, Tomorrow, When the War Began.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.) 

 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

for language (no F-bombs), violence, blood/gore, and sexual content

To the FTC, with love:  I bought a copy of The Dead of the Night from Amazon with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha. 

 

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

(Note: While this review will not contain spoilers for The Beautiful Mystery, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from earlier Armand Gamache novels. As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

Concealed deep in the Québec wilderness, in a remote spot accessible only by boat, the monastery of Saint-Gilbert-Entre-les-Loups is not a place that welcomes visitors.  Even the most determined tourists are turned away from the 300-year-old community of Gilbertine monks.  Isolation guarantees the holy men the quiet peace they need to worship God and tend to their simple chores.  Although the Gilbertines have recently received worldwide attention due to a recording of their ancient and achingly beautiful Gregorian chants, they desire only to be left alone.  

When Frére Mathieu, the order's choirmaster, is brutally murdered in the abbot's private garden, the monks are forced to ask for outside help.  Armand Gamache, Chief Inspector of the Sûrete de Québec, is soon on the job along with his right-hand man, Jean-Guy Beauvoir.  As the duo investigates the crime, they find an order torn between privacy and publicity, its loyalties divided between two dynamic leaders.  Discontent wafts through the monastery's silent corridors.  Tension simmers below the surface—in one of the gentle brothers, it has bubbled over.  But which one?  Who was angry enough to bash Frére Mathieu's head in?  It's up to Gamache and Beauvoir to find out.  

At the same time Gamache and Beauvoir are examining the cracks in the Gilbertines' peaceful exterior, they're experiencing troubling fissures a lot closer to home.  When time-honored loyalties are put to the ultimate test on both fronts, no one will escape unscathed—not the Gilbertines, nor the Sûrete de Québec and its infamous Chief Inspector.

As much as I love Three Pines—the quaint village where most of Louise Penny's books are set—I'm always intrigued when the author chooses a different location for one of her mysteries.  The monastery of Saint-Gilbert-Entre-les-Loups (which is fictional, unlike the Gilbertines who existed but went extinct) is a fascinating locale, especially because it creates a "locked room" mystery that is all the more complex despite fewer players on scene.  Like the previous seven books in the Armand Gamache series, The Beautiful Mystery offers a compelling, multi-layered story peopled with interesting characters.  Kind, intelligent Gamache is always my favorite.  I enjoyed the deeper look at his psyche, especially as it intertwines with that of his protegé, Beauvoir.  I'm not going to lie, though, the ending of The Beautiful Mystery broke my heart more than a little.  Gamache's pain went straight to my heart.  I had to inhale the next book in the series immediately, just to reassure myself that the Chief Inspector would be okay.  At least eventually.  My investment in these characters is a testament to Penny's skill at creating a vibrant, believable world filled with people I wish I knew.  I love this series, which gets better with every installment.

(Readalikes:  Other books in the Armand Gamache series, including Still Life; A Fatal Grace; The Cruelest Month; A Rule Against Murder; The Brutal Telling; Bury Your Dead; The Hangman [novella]; A Trick of the Light; How the Light Gets In; The Long Way Home; The Nature of the Beast; A Great Reckoning; and Glass Houses)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find